


The Tale of Dennis

by starspawnedwarlock



Category: ProZD, The King Dragon Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-02
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2019-06-01 12:18:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15142940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starspawnedwarlock/pseuds/starspawnedwarlock
Summary: When the young Prince Horace is kidnapped before his coronation, it is up to the four heroes of the rescue party to save him from the clutches of the Foul King Dragon and his evil minions.The sworn Royal Guardian: Archibald.The Leader of House Tomoko: Tomoko-chan.The Leader of House Lysanderoth: Lysanderoth himself.And the dedicated student of magic: Dennis.Will these four warriors save Prince Horace, or will they succumb to the monsters, cults, treachery and war?





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for the chunk of world building that is the first chapter, I just realised I had so much space to work with and went a little crazy.  
> I made a few assumptions for this, among them being that the blonde woman in "When you start a new game and meet the character you know is going to betray you" is Tomoko-chan, and that she is also the leader of House Tomoko (Partially cause that would be kinda funny).  
> I based my description of my boy Lysanderoth of this post: https://elkaby.tumblr.com/post/172815876933/seems-like-a-really-trustworthy-guy-to-me-i-was  
> God I love Lysanderoth

The cart bumped and jostled as it made its way down the old dirt road, shadowed by the tall pines that rose up on either side. The old wood was scraped and weathered from countless years going down the winding roads of the north. The small glass panes of the windows were cracked and stained, and some were missing. The reins-man, Jeeves, was reclined upon his seat at the front of the carriage, enjoying the summer weather that had finally decided to show itself. A mere hour ago he had been huddled up in a thick coat, trying to keep the cold away. But that was of course the usual near the Wintered Mountains. No matter what the temperature of the surrounding land was, the mountains stayed cold enough to make icicles hang from one’s nose. One of the cons of having an Ice Dragon ruler he guessed. 

If it had not been for the efforts of the late King, then the Ice Dragon’s rule would have expanded much farther than just the Mountains. But that was just one of the many things that the people of the Land were gracious to the king for. It truly had been a sad day when the news of his assassination had reached their ears. Slain by the minions of the Foul King Dragon, they said. The Cult of the Black Crown had truly cemented themselves as the true enemy of the Empire that day. The Kingsguard were constantly searching for traces of their tainted faith, uprooting sects of the cult whenever they could. He could still remember the trial he had witnessed… and the execution after. 

They had all been tied to posts in the town square, held painfully above a pile of firewood. All but one of the cult members were quietly whispering prayers to their dragon god, as they awaited their purging. A single member, the sect leader, was thrashing about violently, throwing himself in the direction of the governing stand, attempting to say something. He must surely have regretted cutting out his own tongue when he was captured. As the piles underneath were lit, the leader stopped his struggling, realising it was too late. But what his mouth could not say, his eyes could. The watering eyes were filled with fear and anger. But not ordinary anger, no. This was not the anger of being apprehended and defeated. This was the pure seething anger of personal hate. There were little things in the world that could fill a man with such vile rage. And following his eyes, the cart driver could see them trained directly to the man who had torn down their sect, killed half the men in the process, and taken the other half as prisoners for interrogation. 

The highborn half-elven leader of a Noble House stood proudly on the Governing stand along with some of the Kingsguard, watching the burning with partially subdued satisfaction, and a sadistic smile. Despite his life of tracking down and slaughtering the enemies of the Empire with ruthless efficiency, he was impeccably well kept. His uniform was clean and straight, as it always was for such official proceedings. His straight hair hung down to the left of his face, combed and reflecting the light of the torches just above. His slender face was adorned with a Van Dyke beard, and his Platinum framed glasses, with a monocle attached, which reflected the light of screaming infernos. The Ladies of the land would swoon at the sight of the man in his early days, before he earned his terrifying reputation, and before his eyes were filled with an eternal hate. His twin pistols hung from his rich leather belt. How many lives those priceless weapons of destruction had claimed, a man would surely pale to know.

That had been the first day that the Jeeves had seen Lysanderoth, and he still hoped it was to be the last. 

Turning his thoughts away from the horrid, the cart driver pondered on what the soon to be king could bring to rival his father’s legacy. Prince Horace. Some said he was too weak to be a King, not possessing a strong enough will, or arm for that matter. Many doubted he would share his father’s habit of taking to the front lines, the royal blade in hand, leading the charge against every enemy. But the most hushed of presumptions, one that the people dare not say within earshot of the Nobles, was that the young Prince would be denied the Power of Kings: the power that his forebears had used to destroy threats to the people. Jeeves hoped for the sake of the Empire that he would be granted this power, for if he was denied, a war of “true” heirs would soon start. 

If that was to be the case, one had best get as far away from the capital as possible, or maybe even get out of the Noble pentagon: the area that lay within the five seats of Noble power, one for each of the noble houses. The capital was in the centre of the pentagon, with railways leading out to each of the Noble seats. Were this horrible event to unfold, Jeeves felt to most sympathy for those in the Northwest of the pentagon, those trapped in the fury and fire and bloodshed that would most definitely erupt between House Lysanderoth and House Tomoko. They were sworn enemies since the beginning of the Old War, and kept their bad blood even after the King of the time had managed to unite all the Houses under his rule.

Jeeves continued on his leisurely journey, almost forgetting he was on a job, although the young passenger was probably so engrossed in his books that he wouldn’t notice if they took their time. He sat for a few more hours, until the sun was nearing its death for the day. Luckily he was just pulling up to a small village, Pine-water; their destination.  
As the carriage trundled into the single road of the village, Jeeves noticed a man eyeing him intently. He was old, and held a walking stick in his lap, as he sat on the steps of what seemed to be the inn. Pulling to a stop, the cart driver decided to ignore the man, whose gaze grew more intense, and rapped the side of the carriage. The rhythm was one of the standardized form that was used across the land. It simply stood for “we’re here”.

There was a bustle inside the carriage, as the passenger began to quickly gather up his belongings. He had no doubt that the inside of the carriage was a mess of books. He had transported the studious sort before. This was the usual for them. As he waited, Jeeves saw the man say something to a person who was standing outside the inn also. After a quick word, she went inside. 

A tint of suspicion began to creep up on the driver, but his thoughts were interrupted by the carriage door opening, and a young man climbing out, almost stumbling over his robes, and spilling the books from his satchel. Looking around, the young one smiled, obviously recognizing the place. After a moment, he turned to the driver, and searched around his robes, before producing a bag of coins, and handing them over.

“A little late I think?” the student inquired, not seeming all that bothered.  
“Ah, yes, sorry master. I couldn’t help but try to lengthen such a lovely trip. I hope you didn’t mind.” Jeeves explained.  
“Don’t worry about it, sir,” the young man assured, “I would do the same where I in your position.”

Smiling, Jeeves quickly checked the payment. “Ah, good. Now, it has been a pleasure being your driver, Mr…” Jeeves thought a moment. “You students always have such odd names, forgive me for losing track of some.”

“No worries, sir. My name is-“

Before the student could finish, a yell of excitement came from the inn entrance, from a group who had just emerged. 

“DENNIS!”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dennis catches up with his family.

Dennis’ head quickly turned to the source of the yell, and his lips broke into a smile as he saw two people skipping towards him. Within seconds he was engulfed in a large hug from a tall woman. He laughed heartily as the cart took off, looking for a more permanent place to park for the night. Laughing as well, the woman released Dennis, smiling down at him. 

“You took your merry time getting here, brother.” She commented, as Dennis began searching around in his satchel. “We were beginning to get worried.”

“Apologies, sister. The unfortunate occurrence of an accidently released fire wolf inevitably delayed the departure of the locomotive by a considerable amount.” Dennis explained, pulling out a small parcel and handing it to her. “Would this perhaps compensate for such untimely happenings?”

A wide grin took over his sister’s face as she took the package and began unwrapping it, giving Dennis time to turn to another who had approached. A child, barely reaching his waist in height, stood before him, looking up with uncertainty. She had the same wild dark hair as Dennis, and the same stark green eyes.

“Ah, you must be little Zoe.” Dennis kneeled down, smiling at his niece. She smiled shyly back at him.

“I have a present for you too, you know.” Grinning, Dennis reached in his satchel once more, and pulled out another parcel. “Now you were considerably younger when last I saw you so I couldn’t be sure of what exactly you would want, so I went with an all-rounder of sorts.” His niece slowly reached forward and took the package.

Turning back to his sister, he saw that she had removed the wrapping, and held in her hands a sheathed dagger, the leather decorated with swirling patterns. Drawing the blade, her eyes grew wide at the designs along its steel surface. 

“Brother,” she smiled up at him, “it’s just what I wanted.”

Dennis shrugged. “Everyone wants knives.”

His sister nodded at that statement, before stopping, and looking at him intently, then down at her daughter. “Dennis.” She said sternly. “You didn’t give a knife to my daughter, did you?”

Dennis began to answer, then stopped, after a second he spoke. “For reference: would that have been a bad thing?”

“Dennis!”

Looking nervous, Dennis quickly moved his hands in intricate motions, as a small blue glyph appeared chest level. It hung there for a second, before the wizard slapped his hands shut upon it. His sister saw a soft glow shine from the package Zoe was opening.

Seeming satisfied, Dennis turned back to her. “I did not get your daughter a deadly weapon, do you take me for a madman?”

His sister stared at him, unimpressed. She gave him an exasperated shake of the head, looking to see what Zoe’s new gift was. From the package she produced an amulet. It wasn’t the most pristine thing one could buy, but then again studying magic in the Northern Colleges often left one with less than adequate funds in terms of buying luxurious items such as that. That being said, it was a thing of beauty. Crafted from silver, with a bird shaped piece of malachite set in the front, the child looked at it with wonder. 

“Thank you, Uncle Dennis!” the girl yelled excitedly, putting on the amulet.

“No trouble, little one,” he responded cheerily.

As the child eagerly showed her mother her present, Dennis looked towards the inn, seeing the old man sitting upon the steps, holding his walking stick upright. Nodding to his sister as he walked by, Dennis approached the man. The old one raised an eyebrow and tilted his head to the side as Dennis approached. The two stared at each, silent, for a moment.

“If we keep this up I’ll be dead by the time you say anything you know?” the man chuckled, leaning back. 

“You have more than a few years left, father,” Dennis replied, shaking his head as he went to sit down on the steps.

“My point exactly,” came the amused retort, as Dennis plopped down beside him.

They sat for a while, watching the sun set, Dennis unsure of what to say. His father was a weird one to be sure. He could be witty, reassuring, and calming, or he could be vague, reserved and quiet at other times. Dennis was just wondering what it would be now, when his father spoke.

“So how goes the education?” 

Dennis breathed a sigh of relief, before realising he should probably answer. 

He went on to explain the intricacies of his studying, as well as mentioning the spells he had learned. His father listened intently, trying his hardest to understand. Even if his bountiful questions did put Dennis off a bit, he was glad to know that his father was interested. He was just reaching the currently accepted theory of sorcerous crystalline fusion of ether tainted blood when his sister approached once again.

“Dennis you had a long journey, you ought to get to bed,” she told him, guiding Zoe back inside the inn. 

“Ah there is no need, it is not like I will be doing much tomorrow any, besides catching up with the neighbours,” Dennis argued.

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that now,” his father mused knowingly. 

“What are you scheming old man?” Dennis inquired jokingly. 

“Nothing, nothing, go to bed son.”

Resigning himself to defeat, Dennis went into the inn, owned by his family. Without guidance he made his way back up to his old room. It was a simple affair, but it was full of memories… and books. He could probably explain the matters of the books better than they could at this point, having advanced very far in his studies since he was last staying here.

 

In the early hours of the morning Dennis was shaken awake by his sister, telling him to hurry up and get ready. Groggy and muttering unintelligibly, he pulled himself up, reaching for his robes. Quickly washing his face, he left the room and went down to the main room, seeing the few patrons eating their morning meal. Grabbing a small loaf of bread, Dennis dragged his tired feet out the door.

He was still rubbing his eyes when he almost tripped over his father, who sat upon his step, as if he had never left the whole night (Dennis wouldn’t put it past him).  
“You’re making a habit of being just in time you know?” His father jabbed, nodding at the road leading into town from the Capital. 

Three people stood at the gate, two were conversing excitedly, while one looked around, bored. Dennis didn’t recognize the bystander, although from where he was standing he could see the guardsmen armour he wore. His sister was one of the two talkers, and was obstructing his view of the final person.

Walking towards them to get a better view, Dennis could make out a tall man, wearing the elite armour of the Kingsguard. As he got closer he saw that the man was well muscled, but still lean. A rapier hung from his belt, and an unstrung bow was strapped to his back. A moustache covered his face, above a large smile. 

The man was just bursting into laughter when his eyes glanced over to the lone mage. He straightened up, a truly happy smile filling up his face. Recognizing him, the mage started forth. Walking towards him, throwing out his arms for a hug, Archibald laughed, and called out in his merry voice. “Dennis!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit is this late! Apologies for whoever was waiting. Also damn over a hundred hits. And would you believe SungWon decided to name the girl not long after I released the first chapter.   
>  Also I apologise for the disappointment this chapter is. Dialogue between side characters is not my strong point, and in the end I just wanted to get the fucking thing done. But now we get good boi Archie! The beast of the party! But he will soon be the... Just kidding it won't be soon, got some time before that shit.
> 
> Leave some kudos if you like it, and maybe comment with critiques or... I dunno comments just sound nice?


End file.
